Cupid Is A Great Many Things
by AJ Rayne
Summary: Kyoya makes an executive decision that changes Haruhi's and Tamaki's lives: a story told in three parts, from the perspectives of its main players.
1. Cupid Wears Glasses

**Cupid Wears Glasses**

Kyoya and Tamaki had given the orders in the Host Club, and for the most part, the others had listened. Even after they'd left, they still had the power to call their friends to action whether it be with a snap of Tamaki's fingers or a pointed statement from Kyoya's lips.

That was the reason why Haruhi was sitting in front of the former Shadow King of the Host Club, despite having been interrupted from a rigorous study session for a midterm she had the next day. Without a doubt, she looked like someone who had been studying nonstop for a week. There were dark circles under her eyes, her hair stuck up around her head in tufts and she was wearing an outfit reminiscent of the one she'd worn on that fateful day when an 80,000 yen vase had sealed her destiny with a group of bored, good-looking rich kids. In short, without a uniform to guide her wardrobe, she'd let clean laundry and proximity to whatever was lying around dictate what she was wearing on any given day.

In contrast, Kyoya was sleek and shiny, every aspect of his appearance chosen with calculated care. He sat with an easy grace, his legs crossed at the knee, and one arm leaning on the back of his seat. His inky black hair didn't dare deviate from the style he'd chosen for it, a few strands falling over his forehead but never into his eyes. The plain green button-down shirt and expensive pair of designer jeans he wore oozed a casualness that, despite all his posturing, their owner did not.

They stared at each other, both thinking that the other was a perfect example of what they never wanted to look like.

"Kyoya-senpai," Haruhi said, her voice taking on that flat tone that meant her patience was beginning to fray at the ends. "I hate to rush you but I've still got one more chapter of Japanese history to review."

With deliberate ease of movement, Kyoya picked up his coffee cup and brought it to his lips, taking a slow sip before putting it down on the table. Haruhi's eyebrow twitched, not escaping his notice. He'd lured her out for more than a cup of coffee, but he was going to take his time about it. He'd waited this long to have this talk with her, so a few more minutes wouldn't hurt; it would make her reaction that much more enjoyable.

"I apologize for interrupting your valuable time," Kyoya said with enough sweetness to make Haruhi instinctively lean away form him. "I know how important your grades are for your university scholarship. I'll try to keep this brief."

Haruhi waited for him to go on, but instead, he picked up his coffee again and drank, seeming to savor every drop that hit his tongue. She gritted her teeth.

"Where's Tamaki?" she asked, glancing around as if expecting him to pop out of thin air and throw his arms around her.

"I see he's not Tamaki-_senpai_ anymore," Kyoya observed idly. "He's helping yet another befuddled student with her French homework. He might be the busiest teaching assistant in the history of the French department."

Not to Kyoya's surprise, Haruhi frowned.

"I hope he's not forgetting to study for his own classes," she muttered.

"With Tamaki's natural intelligence, he doesn't need as much time as some people."

Haruhi snorted and rotated her cup with her fingertips. She didn't look too happy about that news, but again, Kyoya wasn't surprised; few things about his favorite pair of clueless, repetitive, _idiot_ koi rarely surprised him these days. That was mainly why it was time to stir the waters a bit. He didn't like leaving his fingerprints on anything, but he was willing to risk it for a good cause—to keep things interesting.

"I actually called you here to talk to you about Tamaki," Kyoya finally said, lifting his hand from his cup and clasping his hands on the table. "I believe it's time that you two part ways."

"Excuse me?"

"Tamaki's future is still uncertain, not so long as his grandmother considers him to be nothing more than his father's most visible mistake. In order for him to change her opinion, he must start acting like the heir he's supposed to be by making an advantageous match with one of the many heiresses who have made his acquaintance," he explained patiently. "Interestingly enough, many of them switched over to the French department once they learned that Tamaki was the assistant teacher. Imagine that."

The longer Kyoya spoke, the darker Haruhi's expression became. Crossing his arms over his chest, Kyoya patiently waited for the explosion.

"What does that have to do with me? I'm not going out of my way to prevent him from dating anyone he wants to," she groused. "Besides, the days of the Host Club are over, and I repaid my debt a long time ago, so I don't think you have any right to tell me what to do."

"As your friend and his friend, I do. You don't have to do anything in particular to keep him from dating. The fact of the matter is, he's in love with you," Kyoya said, in the same tone he used to order a cup of coffee or another round of otoro.

Haruhi stared at him as if he'd grown a second head.

"Since the depth of your feelings for him are currently unknown or perhaps undecided, it would be safe to say that at the very least, you consider him one of your closest friends," he continued. "If this is true, you'd only want the best for him. Isn't that right, Haruhi?"

"Y-y...what?"

Kyoya had hoped that Haruhi had some clue of Tamaki's feelings for her, but judging from her expression, she was even less aware than Tamaki himself. She was more emotionally retarded than he'd expected, but Kyoya was sure her system was in dire need of a good jolt anyway.

"Tamaki is charming, handsome, and intelligent," he said. "Most people would use these facets of their personality to their advantage: acquiring more riches, more power, and more _everything_. However, Tamaki isn't the kind of person to take advantage of others to meet those particularly cold, selfish ends, especially if it means other people have to sacrifice something in order to do it. Without the wealth of the Suo family, he'll be nothing more than a beautiful..."

"_Commoner_?" Haruhi supplied, glaring at him with enough venom to make him straighten a little in his seat.

"He's majoring in art history with a minor in concert performance. While there is no doubt that he is a gifted pianist, can you see much of a future in his choice of subjects? He is taking his future for granted, pursuing only what makes him happy. He's destined for greater things, and if he were to become head of the Suo Group, a lot of good will come out of it."

"I've never heard you say that many nice things about Tamaki in one breath."

"Despite what others may think—and sometimes what I think—I hold Tamaki in high regard. He's one of those rare people who are truly good and pure, who have that rare gift to make others happy with little more than a word and a smile. It's unfortunate that his tunnel vision prevents him from realizing he can't live life _exactly _the way he wants to, but that's where I come in. If I don't look out for his best interests, no one else will."

"He can't be in love with me," Haruhi said quietly, her expression tight with confusion.

"He always has been, but you've both been too dense to see it. It was amusing to watch for a time, but that time has come to an end."

"I-I..."

Kyoya leaned forward, forcing Haruhi to look straight at him. A part of him recoiled at the pain he saw in her eyes, but he didn't allow his expression to betray his thoughts.

"You have to do this for him," he said reasonably. "He's not strong enough to cut ties with you, but I am, and, I suspect, so are you. Let him go, Haruhi. If you care about him even a little, let him go."

Lips in a thin, straight line, Haruhi shoved back from her seat with enough force to make the chair topple backwards. Kyoya arched an eyebrow at her.

"Rich bastard," she hissed.

"Haruhi," he called out before she could reach the door. "Think about why you're so angry, won't you?"

Her shoulders stiffened at his words, but she blew out the door like an angry wind. Kyoya smiled humorlessly as a server straightened the chair and fluttered around him worriedly. Waving her away with one hand, Kyoya reached for his coffee.

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"Kyoya," Tamaki said sullenly, pouting into his cup of tea. "Haruhi won't return my calls. Where is she?"

Kyoya looked up from his laptop, eyebrows raised in feigned puzzlement. They were sitting in his suite, supposedly studying, but Tamaki wasn't doing anything more than distracting his friend from finishing his term paper.

"She's probably in some ill-ventilated coffee shop with her head stuck in a book, or maybe even several books. Not everyone is so lucky to have only one exam a semester," he answered mildly.

"She usually calls back though," Tamaki said, eyes wide with imagined fears that were already taking hold of his high-speed, high-strung brain. "What if she's gotten sick and is lying helpless in her apartment? We should go check on her and make sure she's not wasting away, half-dead on the tatami mats, and calling out for someone to come in and save her. Kyoya! What if she's trapped underneath a fallen bookshelf? There was an earthquake last week, and you know those commoner apartments aren't reinforced properly _at all_. Didn't you read about the architect who..."

"Maybe she's on a date."

Tamaki stared at him.

"A d-date?"

"Yes, a date. From what I've heard, Haruhi is very popular in her classes because of her brazen attitude and innate intelligence."

"Who did you hear that from?"

"Ranka-san, of course."

Kyoya could practically hear Tamaki's teeth grinding together.

"He shouldn't allow Haruhi to date! How is she supposed to get into law school if she's getting distracted by mindless male students who will probably want to copy her homework and...and..."

It was a shame that Tamaki's complexion made him susceptible to blushes red enough to give a tomato a run for its money. Whatever he was thinking that other males wanted to do with Haruhi was lost to posterity, because he couldn't seem to find his voice in order to go on. Kyoya turned his head slowly and pinned Tamaki with a well-honed glare filled with icy irritation.

"Why don't _you_ go check on her then?" he suggested, speaking slowly so that there was no way his obtuse friend could misunderstand him. "Go and make sure she's not trapped underneath a heater or being taken advantage of by an amorous admirer."

Tamaki stood quickly, nearly upsetting his tea, and pointed a finger in the air, striking a gallant pose.

"Yes! I shall!"

He started for the door, his stride determined, but Kyoya was already saving and shutting down his computer.

"Kyoya," Tamaki started, one hand on the door.

"Yes. I'm coming."

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Ranka directed them to the library when they showed up at the Fujioka apartment. He didn't look too happy to see them, and from the way his narrowed eyes kept falling on Kyoya, he was especially unhappy with his former ally. Still, he told them where to find Haruhi, and the unexpected move even managed to penetrate Tamaki's mental fog enough to surprise him.

"Do you think he's drunk?" Tamaki whispered when the door had shut behind them.

Kyoya had only smiled in response. It appeared he wasn't the only one who thought it was time to wrap things up.

They found her hidden behind stacks of books and wearing a pair of thick, black-framed glasses that didn't do her any favors. She had to blink several times to focus on them, pulling herself back from her thoughts and into the present.

"You're alright," Tamaki said with exaggerated relief, sitting next to her and draping an arm on the back of her chair. "Haruhi, don't ever do that to me again. I thought that you were dead in a ditch somewhere or..."

"I'm busy," she said, moving away from him and her gaze fell on Kyoya. "What are you doing here? Isn't there some chess game you have to get to?"

Tamaki shot a look at Kyoya.

"Chess? Did you join a club without telling me? I thought we had no secrets!"

Haruhi made a sound that was between a sob and a laugh.

"You have no idea," she muttered, shoving at his arm with more violence than was necessary. "Just go, alright? I have to study."

Kyoya watched silently as a range of emotions danced across Tamaki's face. Haruhi studiously avoided his gaze, her arms wrapped protectively around her middle, smaller than Kyoya had ever seen her.

"Okay. Whatever you want. Just...just give me a call when you have some time," Tamaki stammered, surprised at her reaction and more than a little hurt.

He stood and studied her weary face, sallow in the glow of her laptop screen. Carefully, he leaned down and took her chin in his fingertips so that he could look into her eyes. Tamaki's magic had never worked on her before, but instead, something else clicked in Haruhi's eyes that wasn't lost on Kyoya. He pushed his glasses up with one hand, looking away from them.

"Sometimes, you lose sight of the goal when things get too difficult, but I believe in you, Haruhi," Tamaki said with a small smile. "You can do this. I'll see you soon."

He straightened, his hand falling away from her. He walked away from her, past Kyoya, and didn't wait for his friend to fall into step beside him, walking straight to the door. He didn't see the broken look on Haruhi's face, the hand she clenched over a heart that was surely aching. Kyoya wanted to reach out to her, but instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I'm doing what you'd asked," she spat at him angrily. "Why did you bring him here?"

"It's more like he brought me here. Once he starts worrying about you, there's no stopping him," Kyoya answered, and he offered Haruhi a small smile that had more warmth in it than he'd intended. "You know what I've always liked about you, Haruhi? You never give up. Even when the odds are against you, you're stubborn enough to keep butting your head against the wall until either break through it or knock yourself out. What will happen now, I wonder? Are you going to make it through to the other side, or are you going to knock yourself out and forget that any of this ever happened?"

She stared at him owlishly, her anger bleeding away to understanding.

"Kyoya..."

"Good luck with your studying."

He turned on his heel, spotted Tamaki's bowed head near the exit, and went to join him.

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She came to him in a white dress that suited her simple loveliness, a picnic basket in one hand, and a smile on her face. Tamaki had been shocked to see her, but he'd dropped everything to go enjoy a picnic with his precious Haruhi.

Since it was summer vacation, she came almost everyday, in frilly, lacy outfits that made Tamaki gush with adjectives that cluttered the air like so many rose petals. She took him out to get ice cream, to walk in the park, to see a movie, and to just enjoy his company.

If Kyoya didn't know any better, she was wooing Tamaki.

After each date, Kyoya would get a full-romance-novel-level-report from Tamaki, and an easier to read version from whichever bodyguard he would put on their tail. He didn't hear about their first kiss from Tamaki, for he was too much of a gentleman to do that, but Tachibana had included a line about it in his report. Haruhi still scolded and Tamaki still curled up in his dark corner, but there was a palpable difference in the way they related to each other, a closeness that no one else could interrupt now.

Kyoya had called the Hitachiins to prepare the white gown they had been saving for their friend.

In time, the glee left Tamaki's voice to be replaced with careful joy because she was spending all this time with him. The joy was then replaced with thoughtfulness over why she was putting up with him, which was then replaced by silence. And Kyoya knew that an introspective Tamaki meant that his fat koi had finally moved from circling each other to butting heads.

Finally, one day, while sitting in Kyoya's sitting room, Tamaki looked over from his perch on the window sill, a soft smile on his face. Kyoya stopped making notes in his notebook and glanced at him expectantly.

"Kyoya, I'm going to ask her to marry me," he announced with none of the pomp and circumstance he was known for, but his soft satisfaction spoke volumes.

Kyoya snapped his book closed with finality and pushed up his glasses with one finger.

"It's about time," he said coolly, trying not to sound too pleased with himself.

Tamaki laughed, and Kyoya didn't think it was possible, but he actually sounded happier. His blue eyes sparkled with something that Kyoya was sure he would never understand...or feel. It wasn't the first time in their relationship that he envied his friend yet another thing.

"I guess we have you to thank," Tamaki said, those dreamy eyes seeing right through Kyoya as they always had. "Haruhi told me that you had a talk with her."

"I meant every word."

"I don't doubt you. I'll be happy as long as I'm with Haruhi. I'll get used to living in commoner's apartments..."

"Don't be a moron. I made some investments in your name as did your father, and you'll be able to continue living comfortably whether or not your grandmother recognizes you."

"_Mon ami_!"

Kyoya had to catch himself on a chair or else he and Tamaki would have ended up sprawled on the floor. He sighed as he tried to untangle himself from Tamaki's hold, but there was no moving the other man when his mind was set on it. So, he just stood stiffly until Tamaki decided it was time to end the hug.

"Thank you, Kyoya," Tamaki said, his tone serious. "I never knew cupid wore glasses, but then again, there were a lot of things I didn't know before I met you. Thank you."

Kyoya smiled.

"You're welcome..._mon ami_."


	2. Cupid Is A Rich Bastard

**Cupid is a Rich Bastard**

She was numb. There was no other word to describe it. She'd been sitting on the park bench for what may have been seconds, minutes, or hours...she had absolutely no idea. She could barely remember the last time she blinked.

_I believe it's time that you two part ways._

Haruhi flinched even though there was no getting away from those words, or the rest of Kyoya's logic, since it was all bouncing around mercilessly in her head. After she'd left the coffee shop, she'd been raging mad, and had nearly started a fight over a pack of gum in the process, but once she sat down, chewing as if her life depended on it, the reality of the situation set in.

_ You don't have to do anything in particular to keep him from dating. The fact of the matter is, he's in love with you._

It was preposterous. Tamaki wasn't in love with her and Kyoya had a lot of nerve telling her to stay away from him. Kyoya was a great many things, and his arrogance was on a whole different level from that of regular mortals, but this was by far the most galling thing he'd ever done to her. The whole affair stank with some kind of rich man logic that she couldn't understand, even after all these years...though, she was proud of that fact. The last thing she wanted was to be able to accept their half-hidden truths and skewed world view as her own. Especially if it meant breaking away from one of the few people she held close in her life—not that she'd ever admit it.

Though Tamaki annoyed her like no other person could, smothered her when she was too tired to stop him, and distracted her when she needed to focus on other things, he was one of her closest friends. She knew he would be there even when she didn't have to ask him to and over the years, she'd slowly let herself depend on him. A little. He hadn't let her down, and she couldn't honestly imagine him ever doing that. It wasn't in his nature.

However, just because he'd once arrived at a final exam half an hour late because she'd needed someone to take her and her burst appendix to the emergency room didn't mean he was in love with her.

That then begged the question: why would Kyoya tell her to stay away...unless he didn't know something she didn't?

Unlikely friends though they were, Haruhi knew that there were few secrets between Tamaki and Kyoya. She didn't think she'd done anything to offend Kyoya or to cause him to think that it was time to get rid of her...but knowing him, had she done something that merited her being evicted from their lives, he'd have thought of a cleaner way to do it.

No.

For all his manipulations and hidden agendas, Kyoya was more predictable than most people if one got to know him well enough. Having watched him rule the Host Club from the shadows, initiate hostile takeovers from his laptop, and play all of them like they were his puppets and guinea pigs, Haruhi liked to think that she had a good handle on his character.

With that realization, she sank back against her seat.

Tamaki loved her.

Covering her face with her hands, Haruhi felt her numbness give way to an incredible sense of confusion. He was her friend. That was all. She loved him, in her own way, she had to be honest about that, but she wasn't _in love _with him.

Right?

_It would be safe to say that at the very least, you consider him one of your closest friends. If this is true, you'd only want the best for him. Isn't that right, Haruhi?_

She did want the best for him. She always had. His grandmother was an evil witch who had no idea how kind and generous her grandson was, even though he continually treated her with respect despite the cruel names she called him. Tamaki had so much potential to be greater than he was, not only because of his intelligence, but because of his ability to make people believe in him. With his pure heart and good intentions, there was no telling the scope of the good deeds he could unleash on the world with his family's wealth behind him. Unfortunately, he was being held back by that same family, and, according to Kyoya, by his constant and relentless pursuit of his own small bits of happiness, which included her.

Haruhi had never gotten used to Tamaki's excesses and momentary whims that could involve shipping an authentic French horse-drawn carriage from France or kidnapping her, and flying her to Beijing just so she could try real Peking duck, but she wouldn't be the first to take them away from him. Whenever she thought of his life before he'd come to Japan, and his continued separation from his mother, she thought that maybe he deserved a little bit of that whimsy—despite the fact that she found him and his ideas ridiculous more often than not.

Maybe Kyoya was thinking that Tamaki needed a jolt to get him moving in the right direction and that jolt was the loss of one of the pieces of his life that made him happy.

That certainly seemed like something Kyoya would think, and Haruhi couldn't find any argument with it besides her very strong desire to ignore him completely and continue on as she always had.

_He's not strong enough to cut ties with you, but I am, and, I suspect, so are you. Let him go, Haruhi. If you care about him even a little, let him go._

Frowning, Haruhi lowered her head and closed her eyes, silently cursing Kyoya for bringing all this up. She now felt she had no choice but to do as he said just to prove that she cared more than a little. Maybe it didn't have to be a permanent thing, but just long enough so that whatever it was he felt for her faded away and he could do what his family wanted. He needed to learn to take a longer view of things as Kyoya did and as she herself did. This was one way to do it. She would help Tamaki remove a distraction. Kyoya wasn't the only person who cared enough about Tamaki to take the fall instead of him. So she would do this, not because Kyoya had asked her to, but because...Tamaki needed her to. She would do it. For him.

Ignoring the tightness in her chest, Haruhi stood and slowly began to walk home.

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The vibration of her cell phone against the table nearly made Haruhi start. She'd been staring at her history notes for the last few hours, trying to make any information stick in her brain, but her phone seemed to ring every five minutes. She reached for it, but didn't need to look at the display to know that Tamaki was calling again.

It was more difficult to cut him out of her life than she'd expected, mainly because he refused to let her. When she started studying or working, she could lose herself in the material and would only be pulled out by her persistent cell phone. It had only been a week since she'd talked to Kyoya, but it felt more like a year, especially with Tamaki calling at least ten times a day and emailing more times than she could count. A small part of her wanted to throw that fact in Kyoya's face, wanted to rejoice in the fact that Tamaki cared about her too much to leave her alone for more than a day, but she locked away those thoughts and feelings before she could explore them further.

She stared at the silly picture that appeared on the screen when he called. He'd taken it when he'd forced her to go to Tokyo Disneyland with him and he pushed past crowds of small children so they could get a picture with Mickey. It was truly a shame that half of Mickey got cut off but the two of them were framed perfectly. Unbidden, a soft smile lit up her exhausted countenance before she put the phone aside and ducked her head down again to read.

The next call came two hours later, accompanied by an email asking her if he'd done something wrong that he needed to apologize for. If so, he was more than happy to come groveling because what father wouldn't want his daughter's forgiveness and if she would like to meet so that he could apologize face-to-face, it didn't matter what time it was because...

Haruhi rubbed her eyes and snapped her phone closed. As she did, the door to her room slid open and she tilted her head up to look at her father, beautifully attired in a red satin dress, but looking as if he was ready to fall into bed and never wake up.

"Dad, you're home," she said around a yawn. "How was work?"

"Exhausting."

Ranka collapsed next to his daughter and he pulled Haruhi into a tight hug, cuddling her against him even though she was too big to fit into his lap anymore.

"You look as tired as I do though," he said. "How has my dear Haruhi been spending her time, hmm? I was hoping to find you fast asleep now instead of studying and getting emails from your stupid friends. Tell that beast Tamaki that it's too late to be bothering young women and that he needs to learn some manners. I used to wonder where his head was when he did things like this, but I know better now. It is up his..."

"I'll be sure to tell him the next time I see him," Haruhi said, unable to keep the edge from her voice.

Holding her away from arm's length, Ranka peered into her face.

"What's the matter? Did he do something that I have to go kill him for? If he tried something uninvited, all you have to do is say the word and he's minced meat. I will destroy every strand of his beautifully cut hair—I don't care _whose _grandson he is!" he roared, getting more heated with every word out of his mouth.

"No, no," Haruhi said tiredly, moving away from her father. "He hasn't done anything. I'm just...I just don't know when I'm going to see him again."

"Oh? Why's that?" Ranka asked, his mood going from enraged to curious in the blink of an eye. "Has he finally relocated his sparkling white teeth and endless supply of roses to another hapless city, or, dare I hope, another country?"

Not sure why she felt the need to tell her father, knowing how he reacted to things, Haruhi couldn't seem to keep her words in.

"Kyoya says he's in love with me."

"Kyoya's in love with you? How wonderful! He's so smart and polite. I always liked him best since he was the only one thoughtful enough to give me updates on what you did at school, and he has such a nice way about him. He would make a wonderful son-in-law, although, his family sounds very snobby."

"No, not Kyoya," Haruhi said, rolling her eyes, and thinking to herself that Kyoya was probably the snobbiest person in his family. "Tamaki."

"Oh."

Haruhi waited for her father to go on another rant about Tamaki, but to her surprise, he simply sat back and tilted his head to one side. He studied her with a gravity that frightened her more than the blind rage she'd been expecting.

"And?"

Haruhi blinked.

"What do you mean 'and'?"

"He's been in love with you since the beginning," Ranka said, his eyes boring a hole through Haruhi. "I thought maybe you'd figured it out a while ago, but I guess, you hadn't. Honestly, Haruhi, a good lawyer must always be observant, at least as far as I remember your mother telling me so, and you didn't even notice this great big consistency in your life that's been staring you in the face."

"Has he been _that _obvious about it? I don't understand what is it other people can see that I can't," Haruhi said, her frustration boiling over. "What has he been doing that's made you and Kyoya so sure that he loves me?"

"The day Tamaki can manage to hide his thoughts and feelings would be the day I set all my Armani dresses on fire. You've gotten used to his strange little habits when it comes to you, but did you notice he treats no one else the same way? He would do anything for his friends, but for you he'll go one step further—even if it's off a cliff (which, by the way, wouldn't be such a bad thing). Sonow I'm left to assume you don't love him back which is why you're avoiding him."

"No."

Ranka reached out and took her phone before Haruhi could stop him. He flipped it open and jabbed at the buttons, calling up the missed call log. A corner of his mouth tilted up as he saw the single name that popped up in the entire list.

"My, he's persistent," he observed. "So the reason you're avoiding him is _not _because he's in love with you? I'm surprised that doesn't bother you, seeing as you're both such good friends. This is one way to ruin a friendship."

"What? No!"

Haruhi pressed her fingers against her temples, feeling the start of a major headache coming along. This was the longest she'd spent thinking about the situation and she could feel the dam she'd managed to build start to crack. It didn't help that her father was looking at her like she was a lost lamb and not for the first time in her life, she wanted to bury her face in his shoulder and ask him to make the world go away.

"I don't know anymore," she said. "Kyoya told me to stay away from Tamaki so that Tamaki can go find a good wife and secure his position in his family. Since the beginning, I've wanted no part in their rich bastard game, but I keep getting sucked in. Now I can't think because he keeps calling, and I want to answer to tell him to stop, but I can't!"

Ranka reached out and smoothed a hand down the back of his daughter's short dark hair, his expression compassionate. He'd never seen Haruhi so perturbed, and that was saying a lot considering what she'd had to go through just to get to where she was. She rubbed shoulders with the elite, yet managed to keep her center solid. That was thanks in part to the boys she'd befriended and who protected her with loyalty that Ranka wouldn't have expected from people of their background. Then there was Tamaki, who would cut off his right hand for Haruhi if need be. There was no denying his devotion...nor his foolishness. However, Ranka had known this day was a long time coming. He just wished there was an easier way to ease Haruhi into this new life, with or without her most valiant defender.

"What is it you want to do?" he asked gently, resting his hand on Haruhi's shoulder.

"I want things to go back to the way they were," Haruhi said miserably.

Ranka smiled sadly.

"If only those wishes came true."

He stood and ruffled Haruhi's hair, handed back her phone. Haruhi stared at Tamaki's name in her call log, her eyes becoming unfocused as she did.

"Good night," Ranka said, not missing it. "Promise papa you'll try to get some rest, okay?"

"Okay."

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Even as she stared at the vocabulary list from her English class, Haruhi's mind kept drifting off to a land of unwelcome images. Tamaki meeting some French beauty, maybe even that same one who'd tried to take him all those years ago, and becoming engaged, their photographs all over the society pages. Their wedding, with all the members of the old Host Club, herself excluded, in attendance. Tamaki's attentions and flattering words all going towards that faceless woman who was his wife, who would bear his children, and rule the Suo Dynasty by his side...

It seemed as though a bit of his fancifulness had rubbed off on her after all.

"Haruhi!"

Raising her head, she found the object of her imaginings beaming a relieved smile at her. Tamaki threw himself down on the seat next to her, slinging an arm on the back of her chair, the sleeve of his shirt brushing against her neck. Haruhi's breath caught in her throat and she suddenly had the urge to run as far away from him as possible. Blinking, she worked to keep her expression neutral as Tamaki invaded her personal space like he always did.

"You're alright," he said with exaggerated relief, pressing his fingertips to his chest dramatically. "Haruhi, don't ever do that to me again. I thought that you were dead in a ditch somewhere or..."

"I'm busy," she said curtly, inching away from him and she turned her attention on his silent companion, anger blossoming inside her. "What are you doing here? Isn't there some chess game you have to get to?"

Kyoya didn't look the least bit guilty and she wanted to throw her book at him when he merely smiled. She hated that he could look so cool and collected, whereas she was sure that she looked as frazzled as she felt.

"Chess? Did you join a club without telling me? I thought we had no secrets!" Tamaki exclaimed, turning towards Kyoya, completely unaware of the tension emanating from her.

Haruhi made a sound that was between a sob and a laugh. Kyoya probably had more secrets than he had money. If Tamaki knew what Kyoya had done...

"You have no idea," she muttered, shoving at Tamaki's arm with more violence than was necessary. "Just go, alright? I have to study."

His eyes widened with shock then hurt. She half-expected him to slink off into a corner, but he must have seen something on her face that disturbed him because he didn't seem to know what to do.

"Okay. Whatever you want. Just...just give me a call when you have some time," he stammered.

She refused to meet his eyes, afraid that she would weaken if she did. He stood, but didn't move away from her. Slowly, he leaned down and took her chin in his fingertips so that she was forced to look at him. She'd looked into his eyes like this before, but not with the knowledge of how he felt, and she saw it all then, all that he wanted from her and with her. No tricks with eye drops or dramatic lightning. No roses or moonlight. It was just him and her, in the least romantic place in the world, and she saw it. He'd been showing her all this time, and she had never seen it.

Or refused to.

It was preposterous.

All of it.

But there it was.

And instead of wanting to run away even more, she realized she wanted to reach out and make him stay.

The knowledge of that was terrifying, but at the same time, she felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Mother in heaven...she loved him, too.

"Sometimes, you lose sight of the goal when things get too difficult, but I believe in you, Haruhi," Tamaki said with a small smile. "You can do this. I'll see you soon."

Haruhi watched mutely as he walked away from her, his shoulders hunched with disappointment. She was still reeling from her epiphany, bombarded with her own thoughts and emotions, so she could only watch him go, her words dissipating before she could get them out. What she wouldn't give for a good thunderstorm to keep her mind off this. Clenching her hand over her heart, she gritted her teeth against the unfamiliar ache. Oh, this was not good. Especially considering what she was supposed to be doing for his benefit.

Shooting an angry look at the man who was still standing by her table, Haruhi found a ready target for her frustrations.

"I'm doing what you'd asked," she spat at Kyoya angrily. "Why did you bring him here?"

"It's more like he brought me here. Once he starts worrying about you, there's no stopping him," Kyoya answered, and he offered Haruhi a small smile with warmth in it that surprised her. "You know what I've always liked about you, Haruhi? You never give up. Even when the odds are against you, you're stubborn enough to keep butting your head against the wall until either break through it or knock yourself out. What will happen now, I wonder? Are you going to make it through to the other side, or are you going to knock yourself out and forget that any of this ever happened?"

Staring at him, Haruhi realized that the Shadow King had struck again. Guilt settled in her belly as she recalled all the terrible things she'd thought about him, when he was actually trying to help her. If he'd simply told her that Tamaki loved her, she would have laughed in his face or done her best to try to cure Tamaki of those feelings—all without realizing how she herself felt. Thinking she had to stay away from Tamaki and the stress that the situation put on her did exactly as Kyoya had probably intended. Clearly, she didn't know him as well as she thought, and he still knew them both better than they knew themselves.

"Kyoya..." she started to say.

"Good luck with your studying," he said, glasses catching the reflection of the overhead lights.

Turning, he went to catch up with Tamaki, leaving Haruhi to her books and her thoughts.

--------------------------------------

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Her father was passed out in his room, tucked neatly underneath his blanket, but snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Haruhi padded in, put a hand on his shoulder, and roughly shook him awake.

"Dad," she said. "Dad, wake up."

"Mmmph..." Ranka mumbled, turning away from Haruhi and burying his face in his pillow.

"Dad, I need your help."

Those words had Ranka sitting straight up and grabbing Haruhi's shoulders.

"Anything you want, Haruhi. I'll do everything in my power to help you do whatever it is you want to do," Ranka said, his voice still hoarse from sleep, but his eyes bright. "You have no idea how much I've wanted to hear you say those words. What is it that you need, my dearest Haruhi?"

"I love Tamaki."

Ranka's hands dropped away and he gaped at Haruhi. Letting out a wail that their neighbors probably heard, Ranka covered his face with his hands and then threw his body forward, pounding his fists on the tatami mats.

"Why? Why, _him_, Haruhi? What did I do to deserve such a son-in-law? I know being an okama isn't the most respectable profession in the world, but I put clothes on your back—_cute _clothes, by the way—and food on the table. I know he's rich, but I will work until I'm old and wrinkled to get you through law school. After that you better remember how you got there..."

"Dad," Haruhi interrupted firmly. "I love him. That's that."

"Are you sure?" he asked meekly, reaching out and taking hold of the hem of her ratty shirt. "Are you absolutely sure it's him? What if he gets disowned by his grandmother for marrying a commoner, and you'll have to teach him how to live like a normal person? Imagine how difficult that would be because he's barely a normal _abnormal_ person."

Letting out a breath, Haruhi stood up.

"Fine, I'll figure it out myself," she said resignedly. "Go back to sleep, Dad."

Eyes wide and shining with unshed tears, Ranka stared up at his daughter from his prone position. Haruhi's jaw had a decidedly determined set to it and her brown eyes were focused on a future that Ranka was hard-pressed to welcome. But, for the first time in his recollection, he saw that Haruhi finally wanted something for herself that was more important than a diploma. He wanted to start crying again, but for completely different reasons now.

Haruhi had been independent for a long time, but Ranka knew he still had a part of her for as long as he was the only man in her heart. The moment someone else entered, he would have to share his Haruhi.

The time had finally come for him to let his little girl go.

"Wait, wait," Ranka sighed, getting to his feet. "If you really want him, then I'll help you. But with what really? If you love him and he loves you, what's left to do? We're not planning a wedding, are we? You're too young! He's still too much of a fop to take care of his own family!"

At the door, Haruhi turned her head, her expression wry.

"Tamaki has no idea how he feels about me, so I just wanted to ask your opinion about how I could momentarily pull his head from the clouds," she said matter-of-factly. "Marriage is out of the question right now. I have a goal."

"Oh...good."

"So..."

Ranka squinted and studied Haruhi.

"Well, first thing's first," he said, trying to find the silver lining on this dark, ominous, and most unwelcome cloud. "You have to take him out on a date, and you're going to wear a pretty dress to do it."

"No."

"Yes."

"Absolutely not."

"Yes."

"I'll figure it out on my own."

Haruhi started to leave, but Ranka caught her hand.

"Do you want this idiot boy or not?" he asked sternly.

Haruhi merely threw him a narrowed look.

"He already loves you when you're dressed like an ink-stained scholar, so imagine what'll happen if he sees you in something infinitely more...feminine," Ranka reasoned.

Haruhi hated to admit it, but he was right, and she let out a heavy sigh.

"Alright, but I don't want to look like a doily," she said.

Clapping his hands, Ranka let out a cheer, but quickly became serious again.

"The moment you change your mind about him, please let me know," he said. "I cannot stress this enough. Nothing would make me happier than to see you married to your job, buried under a pile of case files and legal pads. Don't let a man keep you from your goals. Your mother certainly didn't, and you've worked much too hard to let it all go to waste for a man whose suits cost more than our apartment and actually thinks that that fact is _cute_."

"Yes, Dad."

Father and daughter stared at each for a heartbeat. Haruhi smiled and let her father envelop her in another hug.

"Thanks, Dad," she said, patting his back.

"I just want you to be happy," he said.

"I know. And I am. I will be."

Ranka gave her one final squeeze before letting her go.  
"Okay. What time is it?" he asked.

"Ten. Why?"

"Get changed. We're going shopping. We have a lot of work to do, young lady, so get moving."


	3. Cupid is the Most Marvelous

**Cupid is the Most Marvelous, Amazingly Intuitive, and Incredibly Benevolent Friend A Man Could Have**

Tamaki chewed on his lip as he and Kyoya walked back to the car, his brow furrowed in concentration. Haruhi's voice continued to stab into his brain and he wanted to go back to ask her what was wrong, but he forced himself to keep walking straight ahead. Sometimes, he knew he could push her until she did what he wanted, but he knew that this time he might have ended up with his head through a bookshelf. Or worse.

He'd never seen her look quite like that before and it unnerved him. Were her classes really _that _hard? He'd always had faith in her intellectual abilities and her determination to see herself to her ultimate goal, but maybe it was all becoming too much for her. Tamaki sighed. He thought of her sitting alone in that silent room, in her "studying" clothes—he preferred to think of them as thus, rather than her "rags" as Kyoya described them—and he wanted to put his arms around her. He wanted to tell her that it would all be alright if she just leaned on him a little, but again...he could have had his face smashed into a table. Or worse.

"Haruhi must be under a lot of stress," he thought aloud, tapping a finger against his chin. "I thought she was good at English, but I suppose with all the difficult subjects she's taking, she has finally reached her limit. Poor, overworked, exhausted Haruhi. She works too hard, and I worry about her so much. She needs to take a break...I know! We could go to the beach after her exams are over!"

"She's probably focused on her goal. After all, she has to start applying to law schools next year," Kyoya said in that reasonable way that he had. "She won't have time to go on vacation this summer if she wants to stay on top of her classes next semester. Not to mention the fact that she needs to get a part-time job to be able to buy her textbooks and pay lab fees. Time is yet another commodity she does not have."

They got into Kyoya's Mercedes, and Tamaki rested his chin in his hand, pouting at the world outside the window and the thoughts inside his head. While he understood the logic behind Kyoya's words, he was also very sure that he was right about Haruhi needing a break. He'd seen her light the candle at both ends, then attempt to light yet _another _candle. She was clearly close to doing that again, and he cared enough to want to stop her from pushing herself too hard. A goal was one thing, but working herself to death was another; he only cared for her well-being and she was obviously pushing herself too hard. Why else would she have treated him like that?

"I'm sure she can make a _little_ time for me," Tamaki argued peevishly. "I'm only concerned for her mental health. My Haruhi is smart and determined, but there's only so much a person can take. Her head might explode, Kyoya! With all that she's trying to put in there, I'm surprised it hasn't already."

"Mm-hmm."

Tamaki whirled on his friend, who was lounging on his side of the car, his eyes half-open with barely concealed boredom as he watched the city scenes go past. There were times when Kyoya really was too much of an egoist and this was one of those times. Tamaki thought that after all that they had been through together, Kyoya would have learned the value of watching out for others. He had always treated Haruhi with a certain amount of distance, but this was too much. Haruhi was suffering and something must be done! Tamaki straightened and jabbed a finger at his cold-hearted _meilleur ami_.

"Aren't you concerned?" he demanded, outraged that Kyoya could be so cool whereas he was seething with righteous indignation.

"As far as I know, there have been no reported cases of cranial explosions due to the acquisition of knowledge," was the maddeningly straightforward response. "Haruhi knows her limits better than you do, so I believe she'll be able to survive the life she's choosing for herself."

"I refuse to believe that. As someone _like_ her father, it's my duty to see to it that she doesn't miss the small pleasures in life. Did you know that she's never..."

"Tamaki. She asked you to leave her alone," Kyoya sighed, looking at him with hooded eyes.

Tamaki's words caught in his throat. He stared at Kyoya, saw the seriousness there, and scowled.

"She always says that," he argued. "If I were to listen to everything Haruhi says, I wouldn't see her _at all_! I'm her elder and therefore am more wise in the ways of the world and, more importantly, am more aware of the needs of young women."

"She might actually mean it this time. Why don't you use this opportunity to see to the needs of other young women?" Kyoya suggested with a slow, knowing smile that made Tamaki nervous. "Ms. Matsushita, for example. She's been calling your cellphone non-stop for the past two weeks, and not once have you answered."

"Her French is flawless, and she doesn't need my help. I'm surprised you didn't know that about her," Tamaki replied haughtily.

"Then take her out for French food and converse in your mother tongue," Kyoya suggested calmly, though his eyes flashed at Tamaki's jibe. "You're always complaining that there's no one here you can talk to, and that Japanese is too restricting for you to say what you really feel. Frankly, I find it terrifying that you can be even more verbose in another language, but that is why I never bothered to learn French. You should take advantage of Ms. Matsushita's enthusiasm to be in your company. You might enjoy it seeing as you both come from similar backgrounds since her father sits on many of the same boards as yours does."

"I am a romantic, Kyoya, and what you are suggesting is quite possibly the least romantic reason to take any woman out," Tamaki protested. "I don't distract myself with the details of her background or her bank account. What I want in a woman are a beautiful spirit, and a poetic soul; eyes that sees things as they are and carry the wisdom of the generations before her; and most importantly, a heart that always has room for those that she loves, to warm them and keep them close for as long as she lives."

Tamaki smiled dreamily at the thought of this woman and he peeked at Kyoya's expression to see if he was the least bit touched by the idea.

He wasn't.

"You'll be sure to inform me when you meet this goddess of a woman so that we can alert the news media that the perfect woman has finally been found," Kyoya intoned.

"She exists, Kyoya," Tamaki assured him with all the confidence of a true romantic. "She's real."

"If you're talking about Haruhi, she's far from all those things," Kyoya said warily, pushing his glasses up. "In fact, she's as flawed as...well, as flawed as you are."

"You're wrong—on _both_ counts. Haruhi is strong and passionate...intelligent! She reminds me of Joan of Arc, except without the ill-fated destiny, and she'll let nothing stand in the way of her goals. Whereas, I am perfectly happy where I am in life, surrounded by my art, my music, and my friends. Flaws we both may have, but they are far less than the average person, because we are inhabitants of a higher-plane of consciousness."

"Oh, really? Then why is it that are you currently having to hunt down your Flawless Model of Womanhood and then consequently, being batted away like you were nothing more than a fruit fly?"

"She did _not _bat me away like a fruit fly!"

"Mm-hmm."

Tamaki crossed his arms and slouched down in his seat, the picture of ill-temper. He glowered at the back of the driver's seat as Kyoya's description of Haruhi's actions conjured up images of her holding a big fly-swatter and himself flying away on wings too small to escape her.

"Haruhi has always been a difficult person to deal with," Kyoya went on relentlessly. "You're both reaching points in your lives where your priorities are not only mismatched, but in some ways, work to counter each other as well. Perhaps it's time to give her a little more space, and to transfer your attentions to women who are more welcoming of them."

"I don't want to," Tamaki mumbled sourly.

"Why is that?"

Tamaki stared at him. Kyoya arched an eyebrow in response, his eyes taking on that gleam that meant Tamaki was about to get a piece of his ego sliced off or be served a generous helping of a very salient, yet very painful truth. He'd been on the receiving end of that look enough times in the past to recognize it for what it was—it was Kyoya's way of showing he cared. Other people weren't so lucky to have his voice of reason in their ear, cutting though it may be, but Tamaki knew that Kyoya only had his best interests at heart. That was why he sat and took it, though more often than not, he wanted to close his ears to whatever it was Kyoya had to say.

"I suppose you don't want to let Haruhi go because a father-like figure would never abandon his pseudo-daughter to the cruel realities of the world," Kyoya answered for him, his tone mocking. "Or something like that."

"Of course," Tamaki said, wondering where he was going with this. "Why else wouldn't I want to?"

Kyoya shrugged, a small smile playing around his lips that annoyed Tamaki.

"Hypothetically, a man who admired Haruhi as a woman and not as a...daughter, would feel the same as you would but for more...romantic reasons," Kyoya said. "You share the same desire to want to be with Haruhi, but your reasons are quite different, since your relationship with her is on a different level—a lower level, even, since you're not truly her father. It's a very interesting comparison, I think. Whose emotions run deeper: yours as her surrogate father or an admirer, who wants to share his life with her?"

Tamaki's world narrowed to a point and he blinked several times as the idea of this faceless man forced him to push back an indescribable sense of darkness? Of...fear? Of...something else he refused to recognize as an emotion belonging to him.

"Yes. Interesting," Tamaki said woodenly.

They fell into a heavy silence. He started to feel slightly nauseous, his mind whirling with possible scenarios in which he could keep Haruhi by his side at all times to avoid the hoards of charging Haruhi-admirers. In his heart of hearts, he knew that he would one day lose Haruhi to _her _heart's desire, and he always told himself that he would be strong when that happened. That was why he wanted to spend as much time as possible with her. Wasn't it? Dizziness joined his nausea and he put a hand on his forehead, checking to see if he had a fever.

"Tamaki."

"Hmm?"

"We're at your house. Get out of the car."

"Oh. Sorry. Thank you for the ride, Kyoya."

His feet heavy, Tamaki got out of the car and started to close the door, but Kyoya put out a hand and caught the handle, stopping him.

"Do me a favor," he said, this time kindly and that was enough to give Tamaki pause. "Try to stop thinking yourself as Haruhi's...guardian. It only complicates matters. If you stop thinking of yourself as her last defense against the cruelties of life, you might be able to have more time for the things you want."

"All I do is do the things I want," Tamaki said vaguely.

"Not everything," Kyoya said cryptically. "Good night, Tamaki."

He pulled the door shut and Tamaki watched the car drive off. He mounted the steps to Suo Mansion #2, his hands in his pockets and his head bowed.

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The phone rang for the second time that day and Tamaki picked it up, hoping against hope that it was Haruhi. He sighed in disappointment when he saw it was the very persistent Ms. Matsushita yet again. With his thumb, he silenced the ringer and went back to reading the biography of Camille Pisarro. He wasn't getting very far, his imagination interrupting his reading as he imagined himself traveling the countrysides of his mother country, losing himself in the beauty of simple nature.

He couldn't help imagining Haruhi there as well, as dazzled and as appreciative as he. He'd always wanted to take her to France, to show her the life he had before he came to Ouran, but out of all the outrageous things he'd done for her, he was never able to do that...nor was he was ever able to figure out why that was.

Lost in his imaginings, Tamaki didn't notice when the doors to the sitting room opened, and a slender figure walked through. Only when he heard the firm, familiar footsteps come towards him did he turn his head, his eyes wide with joy.

"Haru..."

His words caught in his throat when he saw that she was wearing a simple white sundress, its hem falling to just below her knees, and its neckline high enough to make the nuns who'd seen to his early education proud. It suited her though, that kind of chaste and proper attire, and Tamaki thought he'd never seen anyone more beautiful in his entire life, save his _maman. _

"Hi, Tamaki" she said, her voice unnaturally loud and unsure. "I hope I'm not bothering you."

"No, no," he said hurriedly, nearly falling over himself as he got up off the couch, and he made his way to where she stood. "I was just reading. It's so good to see you. I've missed you! Are you finished your exams? Is it alright for us to spend the afternoon together, catch up on each other's lives since we were so cruelly separated by academics and the written word."

She smiled, but there was something on her face that unsettled him, a sort of unease that lurked behind her eyes. A knot started to form in his gut, and he got the impression that she was about to do something out of the ordinary—certainly something that was making her uncomfortable, and that something went beyond wearing a dress.

Was she going on a date?

Did she just stop by to say hello on her way to meet some other man?

Tamaki felt his knees turn to jelly.

And his nausea was back.

"Would you like to go on a picnic today?" she asked, her words tumbling out so quickly that he nearly didn't catch what she said.

"A picnic?" he echoed dumbly, reining in his panic as he staring down at her. "Today?"

She blinked several times, looking like she would rather be anywhere else but here. Recovering quickly, Tamaki grabbed her hands and smiled at her.

"Of course, I would _love _to go on a picnic with you!" he answered. "Did you cook all the food yourself? You know how I love your cooking. If you weren't so smart and well-suited to the life of an lawyer, I would say that you would make a fine living as a chef or a _pat__î__ssier_."

His efforts to appear normal seemed to do the trick as she relaxed and fixed a careful expression on her face. In reality, he was a little unnerved that she'd come dressed up and bearing food—unnerved, but not ungrateful.

"I'll keep that in mind," she said. "I did make a picnic basket for us, and I thought we could go to the park to enjoy the day. You should bring your book, in case you feel like reading."

"No," he said, barely sparing the biography a second glance as he placed a hand on her lower back and steered her towards the doors. "I'll be with you so I won't need anything else. I want to hear about all that you've been doing."

"There isn't much to tell," she said, frowning slightly.

"Tell me anyway."

Haruhi tilted her face up to look at him, her expression unreadable. She studied him long enough to make him wonder what it was she was looking for or what it was she was expecting to find. Tamaki smiled, curious.

And then she smiled back.

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"Kyoya!"

"Tamaki."

"Haruhi came over today!"

Kyoya was silent long enough for Tamaki to know that he was just as surprised by that development as Tamaki had been. That in itself was yet another surprising development for the day because few things surprised Kyoya—he seemed to know all, and sometimes before it even happpened.

"Oh?" he said.

"We went on a picnic. She made the most delicious _bento_ for me!" Tamaki said gleefully.

"Just like you'd always imagined," Kyoya remarked dryly. "Tell me. Did you enjoy the picnic as her guardian or..."

"As her friend," Tamaki said firmly. "I'm her friend."

"Mm. Interesting."

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"Kyoya!"

"Tamaki."

"Haruhi came over _again_!"

"Oh?"

"She wanted to take me to this ice cream shop she found near her school. It was full of _college _students, not _university_ students, and I got to talk to a few of them. They're a whole different breed of commoner, Kyoya. You must come with us and meet some for yourself."

"I hope you didn't abandon Haruhi to talk to a questionable group of people who are not committed enough to enter a four-year institution rather than a two-year one."

"That's cruel—most of them just can't _afford _university," Tamaki explained slowly as if he were speaking to a five year old. "When I take over my father's position, I want to set up a scholarship to help intelligent, but _poor_ graduating high school students reach greater heights. What my father did for Haruhi and those other special students at Ouran isn't enough. And no, I did not abandon Haruhi. In fact, she told me a wonderful story about how her mother used to take her to get ice cream every time she brought home a perfect quiz from school. It was a wonder Haruhi wasn't a rounder child. She would have been cute though. Can you imagine a cute little five year old Haruhi, Kyoya? Soooo _cute_!"

"Very. How is your friendship coming along?"

"Perfectly perfect. There aren't two better friends in the world—except for us, of course."

"If you ever compare our friendship with what you have with Haruhi again, I will make you disappear," Kyoya said, his tone dangerously flat.

"...what?"

---------------------------------------------

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"Kyoya!"

"Tamaki. If you continue to scream into your phone like an old woman, I'm going to lose my hearing and will be unable to listen to your inane stories for hours on end."

"I'm sorry. But, I am just so excited. Haruhi came over..."

"Again?"

"Yes. She said she wanted to get some exercise so we took a walk in the park."

Tamaki's eyes grew unfocused as he thought about the day he'd just spent with her, and he nearly forgot that he was still had the phone up against his ear.

"She looked beautiful today, even though she was only wearing jeans and a t-shirt," Tamaki said vaguely, more to himself than to Kyoya. "There was something about her that was...I don't know..."

"Maybe sunlight flatters her. You're a good friend for noticing it," Kyoya said, a strange tone in his voice.

"Maybe," Tamaki said, feeling as if his friend was laughing at him, but wondering why he would be.

"Tamaki."

"Hm?"

"You should go pick her up tomorrow rather than making her go all the way to your house."

"Good idea, Kyoya! Where should we go? She did mention wanting to see a movie. I'll take her to a big commoner theater of her choice. We can share a tub of popcorn and maybe even a big cup of soda with _two _straws..."

Kyoya's sigh was audible enough to snap Tamaki from his reverie about sharing a soda with Haruhi.

"_Two _straws!" he crowed.

"Enjoy yourselves," Kyoya sighed again

---------------------------------------------

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It came to be that without even having to plan it, Tamaki saw Haruhi nearly everyday during the summer holiday. They explored the city together, going to movies, shopping, new restaurants, and the various festivals that were going on in the little corners of the city. Sometime between the day she'd shown up at his house in her white dress and today, Haruhi had taken to looping her arm through his as they walked...or maybe he'd taken her arm. He couldn't remember.

He had caught their reflection in a shop window on one of those occasions, and thought that he'd never seen friends look quite the way they did.

Those first few days had thrilled him, and then when days turned into weeks, and then those weeks turned into the entirety of summer with her by his side. He slowly began to see her as something more, as someone bigger than the space he'd put her in in his life. It made him feel things he hadn't acknowledged before, and still shied away from, but he knew they were there...and while he was terrified, he was also happy. She made him happy.

Not that he was an unhappy person, but this kind of happiness didn't make him want to jump up and down the way he usually did, or to throw his arms around her and swing her around the room. This kind of happiness made him want to bask in its warmth in complete stillness, in perfect silence, so not to mar its shiny surface. It soothed him, gave him rest, and quieted the thoughts that usually ran rampant in his overly active brain, allowing him to just enjoy the moment for what it was. In all its simplicity and honesty, this happiness was Haruhi.

Tamaki studied her now with eyes half-opened, as she sat and listened to his song, even though she pretended to read the book she was holding in her hand. He reflected that he'd never had a friend who could make him lose his place as he played or forget several bars of his precious Mozart sonatas. He couldn't help thinking that as he watched her, while he played for her, that he hadn't felt this way in a long time. Not since he'd played for his _maman_.

She looked up from her book to find his eyes on her and he realized that his hands had stopped moving over the keys.

"Why did you stop?" she asked. "You were just getting to the good part."

"You know the song?"

"I've heard you play it enough times," she said with an easy shrug. "It'd be a shame if I didn't."

"I..."

Tamaki blinked several times as the room began to spin slightly. He gripped the piano bench with suddenly nerveless fingers.

"Are you alright?"

"F-fine."

He must have looked far from fine, because Haruhi stood and went to stand at his side. She peered into his face, her brow furrowed with concern, and she put a hand on his forehead.

"You're not sick," she stated. "Maybe you're hungry. Let's get something to eat. I found this pasta restaurant that you'll probably love. The food's nothing special, but they decorated it with old American junk..."

He kissed her.

All he had to do was lean forward. It was easy. Easier than he'd expected. His hands came up from the piano bench to frame her face as he gently pressed his lips against hers, parted them with his, and became a part of her that she would never be able to erase. He barely felt it when she put her arms around him, when she stepped closer to tighten her hold on him, and to show him that she wasn't his friend after all.

When she lifted her head and looked into his eyes, he saw that her own were hazy and unfocused as she slowly relaxed her grip on his shirt. Tamaki ran a thumb across the soft line of her jaw, and she leaned into his touch, her expression thoughtful as she looked at him. Even though his heart was thundering in his chest, he'd never felt more sure of anything. This wasn't a mistake, nor was it a whim.

"I've loved you for a long time, haven't I?" he asked wonderingly, too shocked and needing her too much to think about what it was he was saying.

"That's what Kyoya says, but we were both too stupid to realize it," she answered, sliding onto the piano bench next to him.

"Kyoya?"

Tamaki could only listen in mute disbelief as Haruhi told him how Kyoya had warned her away, had opened her eyes to what had been there all along. She told him how she'd come on that first day, knowing what it was she was trying to do, and only hoped that it wouldn't take him another seven years to realize his own feelings and hers.

Putting an arm around her shoulders, Tamaki pressed a kiss against her temple, remembering the conversation he'd had with Kyoya the night they'd stalked Haruhi at the library. How like him to use underhanded means to do a good thing.

"Then I owe him even more now," he said. "Although, I have been wondering why his bodyguards have been following us around all summer."

Haruhi laughed. Tamaki smiled down at her, kissed her again just to make sure she was really there.

"You do realize what this means, don't you?" he said, deciding he liked that slightly dreamy look that came into her eyes when he kissed her.

"No. What?" she asked suspiciously, and just like that the dreaminess gone—then again, she wouldn't be Haruhi it it hadn't.

"Every Friday we're going to have a date night!" Tamaki exclaimed, filled to bursting with the idea of date nights with her, his most precious, _beloved_ Haruhi. "Every long weekend, we'll go somewhere romantic. Maybe a _ryokan _in Kyoto in the Fall so we can see the leaves change. Then, a snow lodge in Hokkaido for winter vacation so we can curl up in front of a fire and drink hot cocoa..."

"Stop right there," she said, holding up a hand. "I'm a serious student and I cannot go traipsing around Japan on a whim."

"But Haruhi..."

"No buts. I still have a goal to reach, and I'm not going to be derailed just because I have a boyfriend..."

"_BOYFRIEND!!_"

Tamaki threw his arms around her, squeezing her hard enough to make her gasp in his ear.

"My precious Haruhi, I will be the best boyfriend a girl could ever have! I will take you out on romantic dates, bring you flowers, be thoughtful and listen when you want to share your feelings about our relationship. I will buy you jewelry, chocolates..._otoro_! Anything you want, anything at all!"

"Tamaki, I don't want all of that," she said dismissively, giving him a frank look. "I just want you, so don't even try to fill my apartment with things I don't need."

"Oh..." he would have gone into a dark corner if she hadn't said she wanted him. "Okay."

They smiled at each other.

Then, Haruhi stood and brushed herself off.

"Come on," she said. "Let's go to that restaurant so that Kyoya's bodyguards can give him an interesting report tonight."

"How interesting?" Tamaki inquired innocently.

Haruhi gave him a look.

"Never _too _interesting," she said sternly.

Tamaki grinned and she sighed, threading her arm through his.

"Things are going to be pretty interesting no matter what I do," she muttered, more to herself than to him.

"Naturally, _mon cherie_. It's us."

---------------------------------------------

---------------------------------------------

Nearly a year later, Tamaki sat in Kyoya's suite, lost in his thoughts as was his usual style. He could hear Kyoya's pencil scratching the surface of his notebook as he scribbled whatever it was he scribbled, and Tamaki considered that sound one of the most comforting sounds in the world. It annoyed the twins to high heaven, which was another bonus.

Haruhi was locked up in the library, as was her usual style around exam time, but they'd already received news that she was going to law school in the Fall so there was less pressure on her now than before. Not that she relaxed in the least. Still, he was proud of her, so proud that he'd thought of offering her the one gift he'd yet to give her. Despite her protests to the contrary, he bought her everything she wanted anyway—as well as what he _thought _she wanted.

"Kyoya," he said, turning his head to look at his friend. "I'm going to ask her to marry me."

"It's about time," Kyoya said coolly, but he smiled as he snapped his notebook shut.

Tamaki laughed. He hadn't seen Kyoya look that pleased since his father announced that he was going to be the heir to the family business. Kyoya cared about only a handful of people...rather, a _thimbleful _of people, but when he cared, it was with all his heart and with all the power in his artillery. Of course, Tamaki would never say that for fear of being summarily attacked by icy words that would go a long way in proving otherwise.

"I guess we have you to thank," he said instead, his tone light. "Haruhi told me that you had a talk with her."

"I meant every word," Kyoya replied nonchalantly.

"I don't doubt you. I'll be happy as long as I'm with Haruhi. I'll get used to living in commoner's apartments..."

"Don't be a moron," Kyoya interrupted, scoffing rudely. "I made some investments in your name, as did your father, and you'll be able to continue living comfortably whether or not your grandmother recognizes you."

Tamaki thought he was going to burst with joy. He leapt from his seat and threw himself bodily at Kyoya before he could control himself.

"_Mon ami_!" he exclaimed.

Tamaki heard Kyoya sigh and felt him struggle, but he eventually gave up, as he always did, letting Tamaki have his way. A jumble of words crashed around inside Tamaki's head, but he didn't know which ones could properly convey his feelings. Kyoya was the most marvelous, amazingly intuitive, and incredibly benevolent friend a man could have, but he wasn't one for fancy, flowery words. He was direct, and so to make sure he was understood, Tamaki decided that he, too, had to be direct.

"Thank you, Kyoya," he said, his tone serious. "I never knew cupid wore glasses, but then again, there were a lot of things I didn't know before I met you. Thank you."

When Kyoya smiled again, a real smile that wasn't a step above a sneer or a veneer that hid his disdain, Tamaki knew he'd chosen right.

"You're welcome..._mon ami_," he said.

Tamaki grinned.

"Excellent accent, Kyoya. We'll make a Frenchman of you yet."

Kyoya arched an imperious eyebrow at him.

"Don't be ridiculous."

Tamaki laughed, and gave him a look as if to say that there was nothing else he would rather be.

-fin-


End file.
